Being Indian: Independence

Whenever I feel the need to blog here, I have to find that perfect moment when I am angry but not absolutely overwhelmed by anger. But today, as we approach our Independence Day in a few hours, I am f***ing angry, just knowing how unbelievably false this day is. The one day when we paint our profile pictures with tricolours and finally come around to respect our country and celebrate it. This year, maybe we should all go out and find the first house party and beat everyone up. We should find a young girl on the road, strip her naked and try to grab every inch of her skin; for I am led to believe, that is what Indian culture is.

This year alone, I have had three experiences that have shattered my faith in the fact that I am safe on the roads of this country. Let me begin by the most common one. I was at a restaurant with some friends at about 12:30 am, buying dinner after attending a concert. As I walked towards the food counter, a middle-aged man in a lungi grabbed my crotch as he went past me. I turned around and yelled “Bastard!” and continued towards my friends. It then struck me that that wasn’t punishment enough and that this man would probably go grab some other woman again. So I went on to find him.

When I found him, I asked him “Why did you touch me?” His friend began to defend him as the man in the lungi stood sheepishly behind. I continued to explain that he had no right to touch me and demanded an apology if nothing more. At this point, two of my male friends had joined me and a crowd had gathered. My friends began to shout at them and I explained that I would like to deal with it by myself. Following the apology I received, as I walked away, another man in the crowd exclaimed, “Abey! She just wanted to make a scene!” So, I turned around and asked him if he would have made a scene had I been his sister. At this point, the man happened to push one of my male friends and the next thing I know they are about to get into a fist fight and I am being escorted to safety by a security guard. The man had a knife. While, my friends got away safe, he had absolutely no qualms about bringing the knife out to protect his ego. A knife for his ego and a sleazy comment for my dignity.

As we proceeded to leave the restaurant, I sat by the parking lot just trying to wonder how me demanding my right to safety turned into an ego clash between two men. While many of my friends came and applauded me for having “balls”, one went on to tell me that I didn’t need to be such a drama queen. To date, I try to understand the rationale behind that statement. Somebody, please explain to me how telling a man that he had no right to grab my private parts without consent is being a drama queen.

A few months ago, we parked our bike outside UB City at 10:15 pm. After returning in barely fifteen minutes, we found that the bike was punctured. We wheeled it down the road and walked back to UB City where our friends offered to take us back home in their car. As we waited for them, five men on three bikes went past us, made a few comments and parked ahead. We crossed over to the security cabin and waited for our friends, quickly realising that those men were going to follow us. As soon as our friends arrived and we got in to the car, the men got on their bikes and started them. They followed us for a while we slowed down to let one of them overtake us and noted down the number of the bike. A friend in the car couldn’t control her anger any longer and hit the man on the bike with the car door, yelling at him. He scooted and minutes later, so did we towards the closest police station, just in case.

The following day, we took the bike to a puncture shop and asked to see the tube. There were two clean slashes on the tube and they had appeared to have been made with a small blade. The men had punctured our bike in an attempt to handicap us and probably then attack us. After filing a police complaint against the bike, we went on to ask a few people around the parking lot if they had seen anything. They hadn’t seen anything but were happy to provide us with free advice “That is why you should not go out after 9, madam!”

If you ask a woman how many times she’s been felt up at all hours, wearing all kinds of clothes, the answer will be countless. We can’t even count the number of times we ‘have been subjected to street sexual harassment; it’s an experience that we have been “warming” ourselves up to since we were 12. I have been angry for years about being a target simply because I’m a woman. But recently, after watching the news, watching the Guwahati incident, watching the Hindu Activists thrash innocent men and women in a home stay, reading about the deaths of a number of women who are targeted simply because they live their lives differently, I am scared. And I don’t want to be scared because then they get the victory.

The reason I started this blog was to explore what Indian culture really is – the many deep trenches in our society that we hang on to for the sake of tradition? Or is it the way ahead? At this point, I don’t see a way ahead. Unless, everybody stands up against street sexual harassment and moral policing. Unless, women educate their sons and daughters that sexual harassment of ANY kind is an absolute wrong. Unless, the media stops running after the story and calls the police instead.

I mentioned three experiences and illustrated only two. My third experience is every day. Every day, I look at people on the streets and everybody looks like the Hindu Activist, like the moral police and I won’t deny that I am scared. But, I am not completely broken. I will NOT change my lifestyle, my choices and give up my freedom. I know today, that when I walk out of my house, my dignity is a target. My safety is compromised. While all of my posts on this blog end on a positive note, sadly today is not the case. How am I going to celebrate this special day? By going and buying myself a can of pepper spray. That, my friends, is how I am going to celebrate Indian Culture. Pepper spray. Who would’ve thought! Happy Independence Day.

Being Indian: Clothing and Rape

With discussions about women's clothing inviting trouble making the rounds, I remember an incident from a few years ago. I went out for a drink with a large group of friends. I wore a comfortable pair of old knee length shorts and a t shirt. My shorts were a bit weathered and torn and one of my friends thought it would be no big deal to slide his hands up one of the tatters. He was wrong. The same night, I neatly folded my shorts, put them away and never wore them again. They gather dust in my cupboard but I miss them. They were the most comfortable pair of shorts I owned – old, filled with memories and a gift from a friend. That night this guy thought that since my shorts were torn, I was easy. And It wasn't just him that made that connection. My then boyfriend also said “Of course, with those shorts, what did you expect?”

I'll tell you what I expect. I expect that when I wear something, or smoke a cigarette in public, or go on a night-out with just my girlfriends, I am in no way asking to be touched. I wear the kind of clothes that I do because when I look in the mirror I feel good – I feel confident, comfortable and most of all, I feel me. It is my own right to choose what I wear and how I express myself. Be it a pair of shorts, jeans, three-fourths, a bright red kurta or a silk saree. What I wear in no way translates to permission to grope me.

Yes, of course it would have made a bigger impact for me to begin this piece with an anecdote about how I got felt up in a kurta or a burkha. But the focus isn't what I'm wearing but what happened. My thigh was grazed by fingers without my consent. And the fact that I was wearing a pair of shorts shouldn't be considered as evidence in this case.

In this whole discussion about the relation between clothes and rape, where do men stand? We are assuming here that regardless of what women wear, men are like hungry dogs. Salivating over every mini-skirt and spaghetti top that passes by. We assume that men have no self control whatsoever. And with that we assume that the only way to fix the problem is by telling women what to wear.

I understand that by what I've just said, you assume that I only blame this on the mindset of men. While actually the problem lies in the way all of us think, refer and talk about the things we see. A large part of this very thinking is enforced by women - Mothers who tell their sons and daughters that women dressing a certain way Is wrong. When you publicize your judgements about a woman's clothing on to your children, you endorse molestation. It's that simple. The only way that this relation between clothing and rape is going to stop is if we stop labelling people based on what they wear. If you tell your son that a certain woman is dressed inappropriately, he will think the woman is easy and that touching her without her consent won't be wrong.

This is not a feminist issue. It is a human rights issue. Men are also groped, molested and raped. Every man I know has been groped by men and women. Nobody likes to be touched when not asked for. Touching somebody without their consent is simply an inhuman thing to do. Period.

I am forced to return to talk about sexuality. The lack of sex education in this country causes us to repress our sexuality so much that the so called “eve-teasing” is so common that it is expected. As a woman, I can safely say that I get cat calls, felt up or flashed at least once a week. That's over 50 times a year. And this is one woman's experience. And at the end of it, it doesn't matter what I'm wearing.

Today, I'm ashamed to say that I am from Bangalore City. The first city in the world to cancel SlutWalk. A global movement that was cancelled simply because the Bangalore Police succumbed to the protests from right wing groups. Instead of protecting the thousand citizens that wanted to walk for safety of their men and women, they cancelled it because right wing groups protested. What does that say about our police? That when I'm out on the streets in the night, wearing a pair of jeans and a t shirt, I will always be the victim and I will always be the cause. My safety along with so many others is compromised.

Regardless of all these people who make up the terrible world we live in, I see hope and therefore applaud the vice chancellor of Bangalore University to say that what this city needs is a change of mindset. That is what will stop victim blaming. Educate your children, let them know that nobody asks to be touched without consent – their clothes don't, their habits don't, their lifestyle doesn't. A sexual act without consent is wrong. There are no two ways about it. What we need is for people to start treating each other like human beings. Nobody asks to be raped – and most importantly their clothes don't.